Museum Piece #207
you keep her in glass—
your younger self—
as if she’s a fossil
to be studied,
ashamed of,
understood in hindsight.
but she was alive once,
you know.
she laughed with her whole face.
she believed in magic markers
and made friends with the moon.
maybe it’s time
to let her out.
maybe it’s time
to take her hand
and run.
